


Words Slip Out

by heylissaaaaa



Series: A Love Story (Bucky x Reader) [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (He's not really in it but he helps!), (Mostly Fluff and like Moderate Angst), Accidental Proposal, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Soft Bucky, Tony Stark Has A Heart, not graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23867527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heylissaaaaa/pseuds/heylissaaaaa
Summary: An unexpected question at an inopportune moment
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Series: A Love Story (Bucky x Reader) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720045
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Words Slip Out

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies! Back again with Bucky x Reader, also for another one of the ever-wonderful star-spangled-man-with-a-plan's [challenges](https://star-spangled-man-with-a-plan.tumblr.com/post/190946383764/im-so-excited-i-cant-believe-so-many-of-you) over on tumblr. My word prompt was "verklempt: completely and utterly overcome with emotion". This is a prequel to Rainbow Afternoon, but you don't need to read it to understand this one (though it would be appreciated). Enjoy!

You had found the ring by accident.

It was hidden, of all places, in his sock drawer. One of the greatest spies and assassins in the whole world, and he’d tucked in in the back corner of _his sock drawer_. You were going to tease him something awful after he proposed. _Never_ going to let him live this one down.

Though, to be fair, you supposed he thought you wouldn’t have any occasion to be in his sock drawer. And normally, he’d have been right. But then you’d lost a bet on how long a frozen sausage can be in the microwave before it explodes, and laundry duty for the both of you was the punishment. He probably hadn’t put two and two together.

You didn’t touch the ring box, wouldn’t dare open it, only finished putting away his clothes and shutting the drawer. But that didn’t mean you would - or even _could_ \- stop thinking about it. What did it look like? How long had he had it? Did anyone else know? You were positive Steve did, probably Sam too. But had he confided in anyone else?

Your mind flit through question after question until it landed and stuck: how was he going to ask you?

Nothing big, of that you were sure. He liked making grand romantic gestures - liked the blush on your face, because you _didn’t_ \- but he wasn’t one for crowds. Would he wine and dine you first? Would he do it with the rest of the team watching, or wait until it was just the two of you? Would he wake you up with it one lazy Sunday morning? You didn’t have any answers, each scenario as likely as the last, but in all of them you could feel his love.

You were still lost in thought when Bucky came back from hanging out with Sam and Steve. They had a standing day out twice a month that had become something sacred. The only outsider ever to go with them was Tony, when he was up for it and had the time.

“Doll? Hey,” he said, smiling when your eyes focused and you finally registered that he was in the room. “I knocked and you didn’t move. What’s that pretty mind thinking about so hard?”

He knew you well enough to know when you were lying… unless you said something that would distract him. So you shrugged, gaze drifting down his body and back up again. “Your butt,” you said, as casual as if you’d said you had been thinking about the weather. “How was boys’ day?”

It worked like an absolute champ. “Great; a blast,” he said curtly, shoving his jacket onto a hanger and kicking the door shut. “More importantly, tell me more about these thoughts of yours concerning my butt.”

You grinned and accommodated him when he crawled up the bed towards you. International super spy, sure, but still very much a man.

*

Two sharp raps on the front of your open door and then Bucky strode through in full tactical gear. You were belly down on the bed, reading a magazine, and sat up when you heard the knocks. “Suit up. We have to go,” he said. He tossed a manila folder towards you.

“What do you mean ‘we’? I thought you were going with Sam,” you said. The two of you didn’t go on missions often together; you went with Natasha, and he went with Sam or sometimes Steve. Opening up the folder, you began to look over the information it contained. It looked like a fairly simple mission: data extraction from an abandoned production facility owned by a Hydra front.

He rummaged through your closet until he found one of your body suits and tossed it your way. “Something else came up. One of the agents we were tracking disappeared; Sam’s going after him and you’re coming with me,” he explained. “Besides, you’ve got more technical experience than either of us to begin with.”

You changed in the bathroom and followed Bucky out of the room. The rest of the file was half-read, half-recited to you by Bucky on the jet as you made the few hour trip toward your target. The factory was built several miles outside any town, surrounded by forest on all sides, and for that you were grateful. You weren’t expecting any resistance, but the knowledge that the nearest innocents were well out of range was comforting.

“Ready to go?” he asked, checking over the various buckles and straps of his gear one final time.

Palming one of your handguns, you leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s make it quick and then we can stop for burgers on the way home?” you asked, a little bit of childlike hope in your voice that made him laugh.

The data you were looking for was in the manager’s office above the warehouse floor. The door that Bucky opened groaned on rusted hinges, catching on the doorframe that didn’t quite sit right after so many years without upkeep. Stepping over the threshold after him, you were met with a maze of pallets piled high with cardboard boxes and wrapped in cellophane. This was a facility abandoned at a moment’s notice. Ceiling-high shelves leaned against the walls, half full of more unmarked boxes.

“You head up to the office, I’m going to poke around down here,” Bucky said. You waved him off and started wading through the sea of crates and pallets. At the other end of the room you found a set of metal stairs leading up to a room that overlooked the whole floor through very large windows. The door was open when you peered in. Bookshelves lined the wall to your left and the desk faced the wall to your right. A picture frame on the wall reflected light from the monitor. In a warehouse that was supposed to be empty, that could not be good.

Rounding the corner of the desk, your stomach dropped. “Oh shit,” you breathed.

“What happened?” Bucky’s voice demanded in your ear, but you were only half paying attention to him.

The main monitor was indeed lit, a pop-up window showing the progress of the deletion command that someone had initiated. It was almost halfway finished. You were quick to the computer, fingers flying over the keyboard as you attempted to salvage what you could. Only then did you remember that he’d asked you something. “Buck, they’re erasing everything. They knew we were-” The first shot rang out and cut you off, followed by others. He grunted in your ear. “Bucky!”

“I’m fine. Keep going.”

You glanced up from the computer, scanning the warehouse floor below. Bucky was just visible, hiding behind a wall of crates closest to you. He didn’t look to be harmed, and your heart stuttered in relief. Further away, you saw the agents. “I see maybe, eight of them, all armed. They’re splitting in three. I’m working as fast as I can.”

He didn’t respond and you turned your full attention back to the monitor. Someone must have been on the other end with remote access, because the computer was actively fighting you for the information you were trying to salvage. One hand jabbing at the keys, you reached into one of your suit pockets, pulled out a thumb drive, and plugged it into the side of the monitor. A few more minutes of cyber-battle, and you were finally able to start the download onto your drive. “Ha! Take that you bastard,” you muttered, flipping off the screen and whoever was on the other side.

So engrossed were you with the task at hand that you almost missed the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs leading up to the office. “Shit,” you spat. You weren’t finished, but it would have to do. You were out of time. Tying up what loose ends you could, you ripped the drive out of the port.

A bullet whizzed by your left shoulder and you knew you were _really_ out of time. Going around the side of the desk facing the windows, you crouched down and went through your exit options.

The door was out, for obvious reasons. You could hide here and try to fight them, but the desk wasn’t very good coverage and the office itself was way too small to be an advantage to you. You looked around again, and groaned. Bucky was going to be so pissed off at you, but you tried to justify yourself as you stared up at the window.

You took a deep breath, stowing the thumb drive in your suit. Covering as much of your exposed skin as you could, you shot up from behind the desk, got a little bit of a running start, and crashed through the window.

“Look out below!”

Bucky whipped around right as you hit the ground with a yelp of pain, tucked and rolled to his side in a shower of glass. Pain exploded up your left leg, lighting up that entire side of your body. You’d definitely landed wrong on your ankle. Pulling yourself up into a sitting position, you moved over to sit with your back to the crates.

One of the agents peered out the broken window, and you shot him right between the eyes. He was the only one to make that mistake.

It was quiet in the warehouse now. Most of the first group were severely injured or dead, but you knew there were more coming. If you were going to get out, you had to go now.

Next to you, Bucky was scowling. You could feel it boring into the side of your head. “Are you out of your mind? I would’ve come up and got you!” he hissed.

You brushed stray pieces of glass off your suit. “Oh relax. I got the rest of the data and a sprain is better than a bullet hole while I waited. Now, come on,” you said, holding your arms out towards him. He didn’t move an inch and instead continued to stare over at you accusingly. “Up and over, Barnes, we’re on the clock and we’ll move faster if you carry me.”

The prospect of proximity seemed to snap him out of his stupor and he had the audacity to break out a lazy grin. “Sweetheart, if you wanted to get into my arms all you had to do was ask,” he said, though he stood up and help you to your feet. Putting one arm around the back of his neck, he hoisted you over his shoulder so you could watch his back as he ran with you.

The buckles of his gear pressed against your stomach, and you were sure your elbow did not feel particularly nice digging into his shoulder blade, but neither of you complained. “Think we can go back the way we came?” you asked.

Bucky shook his head. “More of them coming that way,” he stopped with his head tilted, listening. “They’ve gone around the sides too. We’ll have to backtrack into the offices and circle around.”

No sooner had he made the decision than another two dozen agents were streaming through the main and side doors. “Time to put those morning runs to good use,” you said, firing off a few shots towards the lines of men racing toward you.

The hallways weren’t very wide or tall, dingy white walls and gray tiled floors depressing under the fluorescent lights. “I’m starting to think this place wasn’t quite as ‘abandoned’ as Stark told us,” Bucky grumbled, flinching out of the way as a bullet raced past the side of his head. You didn’t answer, too focus on trying to keep your balance over his shoulder enough to aim as you returned fire. The arm you were using to hold yourself up with was starting to tremble, and you were having a hard time breathing with Bucky’s shoulder squished against your abdomen.

When you emptied the clip of your handgun you shoved it back into its holster and reached down for the other one you were carrying. No way were you going to try and negotiate reloading with the position you were in. You were lucky enough as it was that Bucky swerved around a few sharp corners, giving you a second’s reprieve from the gunfire.

Some of the men had gone around to try and cut you off from the front. Bucky blocked the shots they got off and fired back, not stopping as he jumped over their fallen bodies.

The crowd of agents was thinning now with each round you fired, far less following and no more jumping out in front of you. Bucky kicked down a door and then you were outside, albeit on the other side of the warehouse, but you were that much closer to safety. Still, the _click_ of your third empty weapon - you’d stolen Bucky’s too - made you curse. Because of course, _of course_, there was one agent left. Completely out of bullets and there was still one agent standing.

It wasn’t far, you didn’t think, so you could try to outrun him. Bucky no doubt had more stamina. But as another bullet lodged itself into a nearby tree, you knew you had to do something else.

Bucky yelped as one of your hands braced itself lower on his back, and the other began groping down by his left thigh. He stumbled a step before he could regain his footing. “Woah, hey, Jesus. Be careful down there, would ya? I was kidding about getting frisky.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, hot shot. Just keep running,” you huffed, making another swipe for his legs and grumbling when you missed.

“What are you-?”

Your shout of triumph interrupted the rest of his question as your fingers finally wrapped around the hilt of the knife strapped to his thigh. “Fucking finally,” you muttered, and glanced up to where the last agent was still tailing you. One quick steady breath to aim and the blade flew from your fingers. You watched with a detached sort of satisfaction as if flipped, end over end, to land neatly where the agent’s left eye had been.

Patting the small of Bucky’s back, you let yourself go limp against him with a heavy sigh. “I think we’re okay,” you muttered. You turned your head to the side and caught sight of the now-empty holster. “Thanks for the knife, babe.”

You felt him slow underneath you and turn, swinging you slightly to one side. A moment’s hesitation and then a sharp inhale as he took what had happened to his knife, the body still visible behind you. “Christ,” he groaned. And then, quietly, breath on a sigh, “Marry me.”

It thundered in the silence that followed.

The shadow of the jet fell over you and you pushed off of Bucky, landing in front of him with only a slight wince. His ears were pink and his eyes were wide, betraying his own shock at what he’d said.

You blinked at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, um- I-”

“_Now_? You’re doing this _now_?” It sounded harsher than you’d meant it, coming out of your mouth, and you felt bad about that. But you were upset, damn it! This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen - not on a half-failed mission, sweaty and injured, after you’d both just killed two dozen men. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He went redder. “I don’t know! You had me all… **verklempt**!” he sputtered.

“_Verklempt_? Where did you even-?” You shook your head, turned your back on him, and hobbled up into the jet. You were still muttering to yourself as you tossed yourself down into the pilot’s seat and began readying to leave. Bucky stood outside, staring at you, until you snapped, “Get on the fucking jet, Barnes.”

Turning back toward the console, you heard the heavy thud of his boots, and the impact as he sat down. It was silent the rest of the way home. You wanted, several times, to turn and look at him. But the thought that he might already be looking at you, that you might end up looking at each other, stopped you.

When the jet landed at the compound, Bucky stopped you before you could hit the button and let down the ramp. “Would it be so bad? Being married to me?”

Part of your heart broke, and it softened the lingering scowl on your face. You were still upset. But you also couldn’t leave him to think _that_ was why were angry. Cupping the side of his face in your hand, you ran a thumb over his cheekbone. “Of course it wouldn’t, Bucky. Nothing would make me happier,” you murmured.

There was something he wanted to say, more than one thing you wanted to say, but no room left in the jet for either of you. Biting the inside of your cheek, you dropped your hand and let down the ramp.

Tony, Steve, and Natasha were waiting in the hanger when you got back. That all three of them were there was a little odd, but you were so determined to get away that you didn’t give it too much thought. “Nat, darling, take me to the infirmary please?” you asked with more cheer than you felt, half-hopping over to her to avoid putting pressure on your injured leg.

She looked between you and Bucky, searching for the answer to a question she hadn’t yet asked. Turning around without a word, she bent down so you could climb on her, piggy-back style.

You tapped her collarbone as you passed Tony, and she stopped. Wedging a hand between your front and her back, you felt around until you found the zipper for the pocket you’d stashed the thumb drive in. You shoved it towards Tony’s chest. “I got as much as I could,” you said. His hands came up over yours to take the drive, and Natasha led you away from the hangar. Behind you, you heard Steve and Bucky talking, but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

Natasha waited until you were changed and sitting in the med bay, one of the nurses cleaning the cuts on your arms, before she pounced. “What happened?” she asked, in that nonchalant way she had that let you know she was keenly interested in the answer.

You sighed, shoulders dropping. “With the mission or with Bucky?”

A pause, in which Natasha searched your face, eyes flicking back and forth. “Both,” she said.

“They were waiting for us when we got there, had already started wiping everything. I got maybe half of it, had to jump out a window.” The nurse - Daniel, you thought his name was - snorted as he straightened up, having finished with your arms. You gave him a wry smile and a shrug as he moved on to examining and then wrapping your ankle.

“And Barnes?” Natasha pressed.

You looked away from her, jaw clenched. “Asked me to marry him right before we got on the jet,” you started, and told her the rest of what had happened. Your voice was thick and your throat burned with the tears you were trying to keep at bay. Now that the shock and adrenaline was wearing off, you felt a little dumb.

“You’re upset, but not surprised.”

A helpless shrug was all you could give for a moment as you negotiated the sobs tightening your chest. “Found the ring a month ago, maybe. I’ve been waiting for him to ask.”

She let out a breath, coming to sit in a chair next to you. “And this wasn’t how you pictured it going.”

“I know it’s a dumb thing to get worked up over, and I know he didn’t mean it like this.” You couldn’t get his face out of your mind, the way he sounded when he thought you were refusing him. “And I wasn’t expecting anything big or extravagant; you know I don’t care about that kind of attention. But I just- was hoping for something… else. Something special and normal and not tied to this job.”

Daniel gently interrupted, his hand warm on your shoulder. “You’re all set. Get some rest, keep your ankle iced and elevated. If the pain gets too intense, you can take some ibuprofen or Tylenol, whatever you prefer.”

“Thanks, Dan. I appreciate it,” you said, returning his wave as he left.

Natasha was there as soon as you were upright, an arm under your own. “Hey, why don’t you come hang out in my room for a while? It’s closer than yours,” she said. You wanted to decline and go back to your own room, but she continued before you could. “We can watch something if you want, make some popcorn. I’ll even steal some of Sam’s M&Ms for us.”

You smiled in spite of yourself. “With an offer like that, how could I refuse?”

Together you hobbled over to her room where she brought you over to her bed. Once you were settled back against the headboard, a pillow under your ankle, she left for snacks while you scrolled through Netflix looking for something to watch.

You’d gotten through Natasha’s _list_, _trending now_, and _popular on Netflix_ twice when you noticed that she still hadn’t come back. It didn’t take that long to make popcorn, especially since her room was one of the closest to the kitchen. You were starting _critically acclaimed movies_ when she slipped back into the room, a large bowl under one arm and a bag of ice in the other.

“I was about to send out the search party,” you said, pausing on _Molly’s Game_ to read the description.

Natasha handed you the bowl and laid the ice over your ankle. From a pocket in her jacket she revealed two bright yellow packets of peanut M&Ms. “Sam was in the kitchen, just got back,” she said. She settled down on your other side and grabbed a handful of popcorn. “Oh I wanted to see that.”

“It sounds good,” you agreed, and queued up the movie.

You didn’t remember when it ended, only that at some point the TV was switched off and Natasha was running a hand through your hair. The bed shifted as she got up, and then her hand was on your other side, gently shaking your arm. “C’mon, sleepy, let’s get you back to your room.”

You groaned and shook your head, not even bothering to open your eyes. “Jus’ wanna stay here,” you mumbled.

Natasha scoffed and started to pull you into a sitting position. “No way. We both know you hate going to bed without your routine _and_ waking up in rooms that aren’t your own. I will not be put on the wrong side of morning-you for that,” she said. You grumbled, but knew she was right. If you fell asleep without going through your routine, it guaranteed you’d wake up in the middle of the night feeling gross. You put an arm around her as she helped you off the bed.

As the pair of you walked down the hall, you noticed an alertness to the way she moved and looked around that puzzled you. It was subtle, and would be unnoticeable to most others, but you knew her pretty well. It wasn’t mission alertness, cold and wary, but more like… anticipation, excitement.

It spiked as you approached your bedroom door, which was now closed. “Nat, what’s going on?” you asked.

She didn’t answer except to nudge you with her hip into reaching for the handle. You opened it slowly, and the breath caught in your throat.

Bucky stood in the middle of the room, dressed in jeans and a Henley. His hands were clasped together behind his back like he would fidget otherwise. The overhead lights were switched off. Instead, candles covered the long windowsill against the back wall, the entire top of your dresser, and most of the desk in the corner where Bucky liked to clean his guns and knives. It gave the room a warm, soft glow, but it wasn’t what drew your attention.

The entire room was filled with pale pink peonies, one of your favorite flowers. There were blooms laid loose among the candles, both with and without stems, and others in different glass vases. You wanted to run your fingers over their petals, get close enough to see the specks of deep crimson you knew would be there. The whole room smelled like peonies, not intoxicating or cloying, but beautiful and fresh.

Natasha removed your arm from around her neck and backed away, making sure you were steady enough on your own. You barely noticed, too focused on the flowers and the man who’d gotten them for you. “Hey Buck,” you breathed, stepping into the room and shutting the door.

“Hi sweetheart,” he said, his voice as soft as yours. He rushed to your side when you took a step forward, putting an arm under yours and helping you sit on the end of the bed. Taking the spot next to you, he turned so that his whole body faced you. “How’s your ankle?”

“Just a sprain. Daniel down in the med bay says I’ll be right as rain in no time.” You looked around at all the flowers again, heart swelling as you took in the way the light shone on the pale petals. “These are some real pretty flowers, Barnes.”

He looked too, a fond smile on his face. “Do you like them? I got ‘em for my best girl,” he said, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. Emboldened when you leaned into his touch, he shifted from by your side to kneeling between your legs. “See, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask her, but I messed it up. I was hoping she’d let me try again.”

“‘Course I would.”

“I want you to know: I had a plan. I was going to wait until it was warmer and take you to that park where we met. Remember, when you-”

“When I hit you with my bicycle, _yes_, I remember,” you grumbled. It was something he refused to let go of. Never mind _he_ was the one that was so busy messing with Steve that he wasn’t looking where he was going. And never mind that he was _fine_, thank you very much. Did more damage to your poor bike than anything else.

His laugh made your chest warm and your heart soft. “I was half in love with you already after that. You made sure I was alright before completely tearing me a new one. You weren’t even phased by the fact that you were scolding the Winter Soldier, with Captain America looking on. He was on me for a week after that because I didn’t get your number. Then Tony walked you into the compound and introduced you as the new team member and, sweetheart, I was gone.”

Once upon a time, you’d been an agent for SHIELD and - after everything had happened - you’d been a little lost. Then, you’d woken up one day to a forwarded email recommending you for a position as a member of the Avengers. It hadn’t said anything about _who’d_ made the recommendation, and you’d never had many friends in high places, but you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was only after you’d officially joined that they let slip that Fury wasn’t quite as gone as everyone thought he was.

The position hadn’t been guaranteed when you’d met Bucky and Steve in the park, so you didn’t say anything in case it turned out not to be true. And facing them in the common room of the compound, seeing the moment they recognized you, was something you wouldn’t ever forget. “You dropped the coffee pot. I don’t think I’ve seen Tony that mad, or Clint that visibly crushed. He looked like you’d told him Santa wasn’t real,” you said.

“_The point is_, I had a plan,” he said, his cheeks a little pink. “But then today happened, and things went a little wrong. I kept thinking how they could have been way worse. Either of us could have come out with more than a couple of cuts and a sprained ankle. But you had my back and I had yours. And I saw that fucking _knife _sticking out of that guy’s _head_ and it reminded me how strong you are, how capable and - I’m man enough to admit it - how incredibly hot you are. In that moment, I was overwhelmed by it. By how much I love you. By the reminder that this-” And here he finally took from his pocket the velvet ring box that had been gracing your dreams for a month. “This is all I want. A life with you for as long as I can, as long as you’ll let me.”

With steady hands, Bucky opened the ring box. The ring inside was a band of rose gold that went from smooth line metal at the bottom and morphed into vines about halfway up either side. The vines wound around a small opal. The longer you looked, the more you felt tears gather in the corner of your eyes, the pressure building in the base of your throat. The rose gold was warm and felt like being in his arms, and the opal _shined_ the way his eyes did when he watched you laugh at his teasing. It was a physical offering of his love, of the life he wanted.

“Bucky it’s _perfect_,” you breathed. Your hand by contrast, was shaking when you lifted it for him to put the ring on. When it slid home and sat snug on your finger, joy lit up in your chest like fireworks, bubbling out of your mouth in uncontrollable giggles. You brought Bucky closer for a kiss so that he could feel it too.

“I paid a lot of money to get those flowers here, so I better at least get to see the ring before you guys start removing clothes!” Tony called from the other side of the door, startling the two of you apart. Bucky dropped his head onto your chest and you leaned yours against his, torn between irritation and amusement. There was a muffled impact, Tony’s yelp of surprise and maybe pain, and a “_come on, man” _that definitely came from Sam.

“Tony, have a little class, would you?” Steve hissed. In a louder voice, definitely meant for you and Bucky to overhear, he added, “Besides, they shouldn’t be doing anything with her sprained ankle!”

Bucky huffed a laugh and you could feel him gearing up to shout back, but you beat him to it. “I swear to God if I open that door and see anyone on the other side, you’ll wish you had a sprained ankle.”

“Come on boys, let’s give them some space. But we _better_ see that bling first thing in the morning. You’re both expected at breakfast,” Natasha said, herding the boys away like a schoolteacher her children. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped as their footsteps faded away, Bucky joining you. As annoying as they were, you did love your friends.

Bucky lifted his head, forcing you to lift yours too. You gave in to the kiss he asked for, but pulled away a few moments later. He lifted a brow at you. “I have one question,” you said.

The brow rose a little higher. “Shoot.”

You squinted at him a little. “Where exactly did you learn the word verklempt?”


End file.
